


What more can a King ask for?

by QueenCarol



Series: Her Safety, His Love [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Carol hair positivity, Carzekiel, F/M, ezecarol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 20:05:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17904758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCarol/pseuds/QueenCarol
Summary: Ezekiel wakes up the morning after learning why Carol has let her hair grow.Based on a beautiful thought by ZM.





	What more can a King ask for?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:
> 
> Carol Peletier, Sophia Peletier, King Ezekiel, Henry, Jerry, Shiva, and any other recognizable character or plot of The Walking Dead belong to AMC Network and Skybound Entertainment, Image Comics and Robert Kirkman.
> 
> In no way is the author claiming ownage of any of the characters nor is there any economical/monetary gain at any time. The author is extremely respectful of the original creators and is willing to take down this work of fiction if requested.
> 
> No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Original characters are property of the author.

He loves her hair.

He’s never touched anything as soft as her hair before. The first time he threaded his fingers through it, back when it was still short, he had admitted to it. Carol had stared at him for a couple of seconds, trying to see if he was lying, but he assured her rather quickly that he wasn’t. Afterwards, he made a point to always touch it gently, as gently as he could.

Back when it had been short and she’d had the occasional headache, he’d tenderly caress her hair while passing the tips of his thumbs over her scalp. He’d massage her scalp until her eyes would close and her breath would even out. Sometimes he’d get caught between her and the mattress, unwilling to move in case she’d wake up, so he would continue caressing the soft fluff that was her hair, marveling at its softness and its color, specially the parts that showed the color change in one strand.

Then she’d decided to let it grow. 

He never questioned out loud why she’d gone with the change, though he had wondered occasionally about it. As her short hair grew, he’d gotten used to waking up with his face covered in it, the scent of her vanilla shampoo filling his nose. The more it grew the more he loved caressing it though he was always quick to tell her that he loved her hair no matter its size because it was a part of her. It always got him one of her bright smiles and a sweet kiss.

But now, knowing why she grew it, brought a whole new level of adoration from him. 

Her hair growing means that she feels safe.

His heart thunders wildly in his chest at the memory of Carol telling him that the reason why she grew her hair out was because for the first time in a very long time she feels safe. Safe by his side. Safe in their love. Safe in their marriage. Safe with him.

Upon hearing that her husband had used it to hurt her, to pull her back and hold her in place while he abused her, his very blood had burned in his veins. He wanted nothing more than to have the chance to face him and show him how a man is supposed to treat a women like Carol, but the man is long dead and Carol was quick to remind him of that with a gentle touch, grounding him back in reality, a reality where her hair is shoulder length and she was looking down at him with nothing but love and adoration.

God, he loves Carol, he loves her so much.

He wants nothing more than to make her happy, to keep her feeling safe and loved and if her hair grows all the way down to her back, he will devote time every day of the rest of his life to caress it and show her much it means to him.

Every time he kisses her, he will let his hand lose itself in her hair, his fingers pressing against her scalp without pressuring her into the kiss.

Every time they make love and it cascades over her shoulders and down her back, he will caress it and when it lays on their bed and their bodies cool down, he will play with it between his fingers, making sure to show her that he is not ready to let her go.

Every time he sees it blowing in the wind he will grin and tuck it behind her ear before placing a kiss on her delectable lips.

Every time they share a bath he will take his time in helping her relax under the spray of water, his fingers lathering her hair.

He will worship her hair as much as he worships her because every time he sees it he will remember how her eyes sparkled in the night as she told him of the peace she feels right here in his arms, every time he will remember proudly that he had a hand in liberating her from the bad experience her first husband made her live, every time he will feel like the luckiest man to ever walk upon this earth because she has chosen to walk besides him.

His heart simply cannot contain the slew of emotions he now feels upon seeing her hair; love, happiness, elation, pride for her and complete and utter devotion to her and the family they are forming.

“Good morning.” He hears her groggy voice whisper before he turns to look down towards his chest. She’s been resting there, sleeping comfortably and securely, her hair fanning over her face and neck and resting on his chest and shoulder.

“Good morning, my love.” He whispers before kissing the top of her hair, the vanilla scent instantly taking over his senses. “Were your dreams as calming and sweet as your soul deserves?”

Carol lets out a breath of air that shows her content nature. She snuggles closer to him, burying her face against his pectoral and leaves a tiny kiss on his skin. He can’t help but grin at the way she curls her body against his, almost as if she wants to bury herself in him. He’d never imagine that she’d be a cuddler but even then, he is blessed by having someone who will gladly lay with him in bed for hours at end if they are allowed.

“I dreamt of my husband.” She admits before pressing a hand over his chest then leaning her head against her hand, looking at him with sleep and love in her eyes.

He knows how lucky he is to be able to see this side of her; this sleepy, happy, and secure creature she turns into whenever they are side by side, a smile always on her lips, her eyes always sparkling. He can’t help but marvel in the fact that he has something to do with her feeling secure enough to show her real loving self, even if it just a tiny little bit.

“Really? Who is the lucky lad?” He teases her pretending not to know she dreamt with him.

Carol’s smile grows as she quickly catches on to his playful self. “The most handsome man I have ever met. He is strong and loving, knows how to protect his people and guide them through hardships, has the most gorgeous deep brown eyes, knows how to love me and make me feel beautiful...”

“You are beautiful.” He assures her quickly before catching a strand of her hair between his fingers and gently tucking it behind her ear.

She scrunches her nose a little in amusement but quickly continues. “He has a beautiful soul and a gorgeous smile and hands that hold me and love me and protect me.”

He can’t help but thread his fingers through her hair as he pulls her towards his lips. Her hair falls around their faces, obscuring them from the light that filters through their window. They kiss for what feels like an eternity and at the same time never enough time. 

When she pulls back, he tenderly tucks her hair behind both of her ears prompting her to press her face to his left hand, delivering a kiss to the palm of his hand. She lets out a little laugh against his skin before lowering herself back to the bed. He takes advantage of the movement to flip them over so that she’s laying against the bed and he’s hovering above her.

“He’s a lucky fellow.” Ezekiel muses, sharing a grin with her. “A very lucky man.”

“He is.” She teases.

Ezekiel laughs, shaking his head at his wife’s musings even as he lowers himself halfway on top of her, his head findings its place on her shoulder, his nose buried against the wild hair she’s woken up with. There is no way he will ever be able to take in the scent of vanilla and not think of her.

Their legs instantly intertwine as do their hands. Carol places their clasped hands against her breast, breathing in slowly. While most of the time they must leave their bed early, ready to help with whatever inconvenience The Kingdom faces, its mornings like this that Ezekiel thoroughly enjoys, simply being able to welcome the new day at Carol’s side.

“I love you.” He whispers against her skin. 

Carol turns her face towards his, pulling him away from the spot he’s claimed as his own. Her lips slowly curl into a beautiful smile as their eyes meet, the smile he adores and lives for which makes her eyes narrow and beautiful laugh lines appear around her eyes. “Yesterday, you told me why you grew your hair and how I have helped make you feel safe.”

“I did.” Carol agrees with him. 

“I want you to know that this knowledge has greatly affected me,” he starts explaining. “I’ve always wanted your safety, from the moment you came home, as well as your happiness. It pleases me greatly that you have found both and I pledge to ensure that no matter what happens, you never feel the need to protect yourself by cutting it again.”

“Even if I grow it long enough that it will knot and your face will likely end up covered by my hair in sleep?” She asks, her voice playful. “What if it ends up in your face when we ride together?”

He pulls back enough to rest his head against his hand, elbow digging on the mattress. His hand lets go of hers only to catch a lock of hair between his fingers. He raises it to his lips and places a tender kiss on it before leaning down and kissing her softly. 

When he pulls back he only does so in order to reassure her. “Then I will devote my time to help you brush it and braid it if it so pleases you.”

She pretends to think about it, playfully raising a hand and pressing the tip of her index finger against her chin, tapping it when she finally reaches her decision. “Then I think I might let it grow a little longer.”

He grins before claiming her lips once more, his fingers threading yet again through her hair, losing himself in her in a heartbeat.

It is the end of the world, the dead have taken a hold of it but slowly human’s claim it back with sweat, tears and loss. Yet in the midst of that loss he’s found something that is so powerful and important that he feels like he is the luckiest man in the world. In the whole scope of the world, her hair’s length matters not to many people, but to him it has quickly turned into one of the most important measures of her well-being, along with her smile and her soul filled eyes. 

He knows he’s a lucky man.

He loves her hair as much as he loves her.

Perhaps more importantly, her hair is evidence that she not only feels his love but returns it in equal measure.

And if he has that, what more can a King ask for?


End file.
